Crowds are the worst. Like, terrible to deal with. Add on sales or the threat of not getting the perfect gift (at the perfect price), and the mobs get even angrier. Which, in turn, makes me angrier. It’s also why, this holiday season, I’ll be doing much of my shopping online via Amazon (why yes I’ll take household goods, gifts, and non-perishable snacks all in the same delivery). Or at Orschlens, that place has everything … minus the people. It’s usually full of farmer’s who are nice and open the door for short women and when I say “full” I mean maybe there is five to nine, depending on the time of day. Anyway, I hate crowds and encourage others to do the same. This holiday season, keep yourself around the people you actually want to be around by: Saying No It’s ok to “let people down.” In fact, as long as you’re up-front […]

Lately, it’s been extremely windy. Like, front porch décor in the backyard, trash barrels flipped over, and window howling windy. It drones on at all hours of the day; the wind simply cannot be stopped. Whishhhhh, squeal, whirr, falluhhhh – for hours, and days, upon end. It’s also one of the worst parts about Midwestern weather. A solid gust of wind can decrease the temperature by like, 40 degrees, and that’s the least of its issues. Other wind-induced annoyances: Hair in Lip Gloss In fact, hair in the wind, period. It’s everywhere it’s not supposed to be. At all times. Crap Everywhere There’s trash in the yard. Décor that’s been tossed into new areas. Pieces of the neighbor’s wreath are found throughout the neighborhood. Mail has to be held on to with a death grip. Anything can get blown anywhere at any time. Wardrobe-Defying Abilities Any lady who regularly wears […]

The best part about having an outdoorsy husband is that they know how to do stuff. They can chop and hunt, and kill and clean, and you get to sit back and watch. (Then later, eat.) At least at all the parts that aren’t disgusting. At times it’s real manly, and I like knowing he knows how to do what I don’t. A balancing out of sorts. The worst part is they want you to like it, too. (Also gear is way expensive.) So, because they want you to be apart of something they love, like some type of jerks, they get you out of bed at 4 am, drive you to a remote location, warn you about drinking beverages because you won’t be allowed to use the restroom. And then they have you climb in a tree and sit. For hours. While only squirrels make noise and the LTE […]

I’m “one of those people” who make the bed. Which really just means I make the bed. It’s an easy chore, and it makes me feel better; it’s how I start the day. Nothing can be done (except actually getting out of bed) until it’s made. That’s just logic. How else are you going to eat breakfast? Or put on your robe? Or start the pot of tea or coffee – depending on what hour the alarm went off? With unmade sheets? That sounds physically impossible. Not even a Marvel character could pull of that stunt. Then again, there are people who don’t do this. Instead of starting their day tidy, they leave their covers disheveled and messy – a precursor to having a terrible if you ask me. (They rarely do.) It fact, just thinking about unmade beds makes me want to puke. If you want to go lay […]

As a life-long resident of small towns, I know what it’s like to be a neighbor. To recognize people’s names and cars, and to look out the window every time they pull in. That’s just keeping an eye on the neighborhood. Like any concerned citizen should do. Sure I’ve had music that was too loud or cat(s) who stared too much, but all-in-all, I like to think I’m not terrible at living next door. Even going as far as to wave or sweep off shared sidewalks … or at least not shove my leaves onto your section. On the flip side, however, I’ve also had some disgusting neighbors. Ones that were obnoxious, blocked in my car (or put up cinder blocks so there was only a single exit), or showed up unannounced. With or without baked goods. And ones that think their dogs are only allowed to poo on other […]

Someone once told me that being 28 is the worst age they’d ever been. That it was young enough no one took them seriously, but old enough to still sound old. And now that I’ve been every age to the one I am now, which is, you guessed it, 28, I’m going to have to agree. My number of years old is terrible. Why? Because it’s right in the middle of everything – where I’m not yet experienced enough to gain respect for being alive, nor am I young enough to be given newb treatment. Things are expected of me, and the ability to give advice is not one of them. That’s still beyond my years … not that should be confused with responsibilities. Which are coming in hot. People who are younger than me think I’m reaching dino status. And those older wonder why I don’t have four kids […]